For several minutes Tandy lay where he was, turning Roger's last injunction over and over in his stiff, precise little mind. What DID he really want to do? At first he could think of nothing. Then suddenly he knew. Why, of course--he wanted to talk to Kobo and he just plain WOULD. There was a frosted cake left from his supper, and slipping it into his blouse, Tandy stepped quietly out on deck. The ship, with only a slight roll, was moving briskly through the water, white foam falling in lacy spray from her sides, the moon-white sails spread like giant wings above his head. There was no one in sight, and almost holding his breath, Tandy tiptoed aft and leaned adventurously over the taffrail. "Kobo--Yo KOBO!" he called huskily. "Hello! I thought you'd be out soon." Swinging round and turning her vast smile upward, the hippopotamus gazed fondly at her young charge. "Are you comfortable? Did you have a good dinner?" she asked anxiously. "Yes, and look what I saved for you!" As he spoke, Tandy glanced over his shoulder as if he were almost afraid to have anyone see him enjoying himself. "Open your mouth, Kobo!" he whispered eagerly. Without hesitation or question the hippopotamus stretched her jaws wide and Tandy with the first real thrill of his life flung the frosted cake into that immense pink cavern. As Kobo neatly caught and snapped her lips on the tempting morsel Tandy let out a faint cheer and began to think there might be something in Roger's suggestions after all. "I'll throw you lots of things tomorrow," he promised gaily. "Good night, Kobo. Good night, Kobo dear." Humming a tuneless little song, the young King hurried almost cheerfully back to his cabin. Pausing in the doorway of his tidy quarters, he looked about complacently. What did he want to do next? There was no one to tell him to go to bed, so he just plain wouldn't. He'd sit up as late as he plain pleased. Rummaging through Peter's sea chest, which Ato had placed near his bunk, Tandy found a large tablet of stiff paper, a box of paints and some crayons. Settling himself cross-legged on his bunk, he began drawing, not pictures of the castles and courtiers of Ozamaland, but pictures of the queer jungle beasts and Leopard Men he had seen on Patrippany Island. When Roger, on first watch, called out eight bells, he saw Tandy's light still burning, and flying down to investigate, found his new pupil fast asleep in the middle of his masterpieces. The whole bunk was covered with bright drawings and pictures and even to Roger's inexperienced eye they seemed excellently done. So, carefully the Read Bird stowed them in the sea chest, then, without bothering to waken or undress the little King, he covered him with a light blanket and went quietly from the cabin. CHAPTER 9 Sea Legs for Tandy